What Might Have Been
by Floating Leaves
Summary: Some time after Jeanne tells him that she wished they had never met and disappears behind elevator doors, Tony dreams of the future that could have been.


He was dreaming of Jeanne again.

This time, he dreamt of the rock climbing wall.

_"First one to the top gets to tell the other person they love them."_

_And he was scrambling up the wall, because he loved her and wanted to prove it to her, but then he reached the top, and as he gazed down at her beaming face, he found that he could not tell her._

_He had a mission to accomplish, and he couldn't forget that the beautiful woman before him was but a part of that mission – a means to an end._

_Except…he made a mistake, and somewhere along the line, he _had _forgotten._

_And now the climbing wall became a brick wall, and his last sight of Paula Cassidy was her disappearing behind the secret panel with the suicide bomber beneath her, and he was more terrified than he had ever been in his life, because what if it was him that would be lying in autopsy tomorrow, and Jeanne would never know that he loved her because he could not tell her, and the only person who knew had died to save him?_

_And now he was knocking on the door to Apartment 202, and Jeanne was looking up at him with a cautious hope in her eyes, and he was saying those three words that he had not spoken with sincerity for six years, and he was kissing her and embracing her and there were tears in his eyes, tears that would dry before they fell, before Jeanne could see. In that moment there was no mission, no lies, no slimy arms dealer that Director Jenny had an obsession for – nothing but their love, pure and simple – would that it had remained that way._

_He knew, in that unconscious and vague way that dreaming minds know things, what scene he would see next. He had revisited it – the sorrow, the betrayal darkening Jeanne's fair face – so many times before that he was tired of it, but the fatigue and the repetition had not number the pain. He had no desire to experience that moment again._

_But this time, the interior of Jeanne's apartment did not fade into the cold gray walls of the squad room elevator. Instead the walls brightened and mellowed, and the air wafted sweet and warm, and Jeanne was gliding towards him, radiant as the Lady Galadriel, and she was holding a blanket-ensconced baby in her arms, a baby with wisps of brown hair and a startlingly familiar pair of green eyes; the same eyes that he saw reflected in his bathroom mirror every morning. _

_And Jeanne was smiling at him, and he thought he might burst from happiness, because Jeanne loved him and there was nothing that could break them apart because they loved each other, and love always triumphs. _

_Except when it doesn't._

Tony jerked awake. For a long time he lay unmoving, staring unseeingly at the ceiling of his bedroom.

He didn't usually dwell on his dreams, but this time it had been different, and he tried desperately to recall the heavenly happiness he had just felt – but he could not, for it was but a dream, and with each passing second he remembered it less and less.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes roughly to wake himself up. He became aware of the dim light that was penetrating the dark red curtains of his bedroom, and resigned himself to no more sleep for the day.

With weary sluggishness, Tony got up from bed. On his way to the bathroom he paused, and turned instead to the windows. He pulled away the curtains, and a cold radiance suffused his room.

In the distance, beyond the tall gray buildings of the capital, a warm light was rising along the horizon. Weakly it shone, pale and gold as the winter sun, wearing away the last dark dredges of night.

The dawn, with its gentle beauty, had always reminded him of Jeanne; but this morning he saw within the golden light something more than nostalgic memories. He saw now the future they might have had together, and the love and happiness they might have shared. He saw all this, and the tears that he had never shed over dreams of what was, now fell unbidden but unrestrained at the knowledge of what might have been.


End file.
